


In One Night

by torturingtaylor (itzaimster)



Category: Hanson
Genre: Abduction, Bondage, Gen, Mild Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-30 01:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzaimster/pseuds/torturingtaylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night out with friends Taylor finds himself confronted by two men who've recognised his talent... and want it for themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In One Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was basically written on a plane because I realised I hadn't written a good chase scene in a long time. Jury's out on whether it turned out any good, but I'm definitely out of practise.

Earlier in the night he hadn’t thought twice about parking his SUV in the alley. But now that it was the early hours of the morning – and his friends had opted to share their farewell at the door – he’d started second guessing that earlier choice.  
Hitting the door lock on his keys, he’d placed his guitar case in the trunk before even hearing their footsteps.  
“Hey! You were pretty good.”  
He turned to see two men – roughly his age or older – but built a little more full.  
“Thanks,” he replied hesitantly, closing the trunk.  
“Taylor, right?” the second approachee began conversationally, “you really shouldn’t be playing these small-time gigs. Maybe we could help with that?”  
An amused look crossed Taylor’s face as he stepped to the side.  
“I think I’m alright,” he assured, “but thanks for the kind words.”  
The pair shared a glance as Taylor made for the driver’s door.  
“How about you do the gigging then, and we take the payment?” the second began again.  
Taylor smirked.  
“Nice,” he said under his breath before opening the door.  
“Actually I’m serious,” the man pulled a gun.  
It took a moment for Taylor to register what he saw, before instinctively taking a step back – into the door.  
“I don’t have any money on me,” he insisted straight off, “but you can have my phone. And the car. Take the car.”  
The two shared an amused glance.  
“This isn’t a mugging, dipshit,” the one without the gun almost laughed.  
Taylor took another moment to register his words.  
“Then what-?”  
“Get in the car,” the gunman waved the offending weapon indicatively.  
Not entirely sure what was going on but deciding to try and work on instinct instead, Taylor made to get into the driver’s seat.  
“Nope,” the gunman corrected, making him pause.  
When he looked back he saw his partner opening the back door.  
“Keys,” the gunman held out his other hand.  
Taylor paused for thought, internally cursing that he wouldn’t at least have the car as some form of defence. Begrudgingly, he stepped out and handed over the keys. He’d barely done so before the gunman’s partner had grabbed him by the jacket and pushed him into the back seat. Taylor’s eyes darted between them as they both got in behind him – the gunman passing his weapon over.  
“What do you want? Is it money? I can get that,” Taylor assured.  
“In a sense,” his friend in the back smirked, making sure to keep the gun at least somewhat pointed in his direction.  
Taylor just stared back at him, his sudden predicament somewhat scrambling his brain. The car was started and cautiously pulled out of the alley.  
“Where are we going?” Taylor tried again.  
“Would you prefer it if we’d left your body in the dumpster?” the guy in the back asked seriously.  
“I said you could take the car,” Taylor reiterated.  
“Maybe we care more about what’s _in_ the car as opposed to the car itself,” the driver mused.  
Taylor just gave him a confused look.

It was still well before sunrise when they pulled into a suburban street. Taylor looked up as they slowed at a particular house, ultimately pulling into the driveway and into the open garage. The door was closed behind them before anyone moved.  
“Where are we?” Taylor was more than a little confused.  
“None of your business,” the driver grumbled as he exited the vehicle.  
Taylor gave his accomplice a disbelieving look. The guy just smirked before getting out himself. Distracted by his action, Taylor didn’t notice the driver until he’d opened his back door.  
“Out,” came the demand.  
Taylor hesitated, but again did as he was told.  
“So what’s the plan?” he asked as he was suddenly cornered by the gunman coming around the back of the car.  
“The plan-“ Taylor only just began to notice the driver’s Jordanian accent, “is that you come and work for us. Either willingly, or by force.”  
Taylor couldn’t help but laugh incredulously.  
“You’re joking, right?”  
He blanched as the gunman aimed his weapon toward him again.  
“Okay… not joking,” he said out loud, raising his hands slightly.  
“You play, we get paid,” the driver continued.  
“Guys… I already have a job,” Taylor shook his head, “and I have a family. There’s no way this could work.”  
“We’ve seen it done,” the gunman shrugged.  
Taylor’s eyes lowered to the weapon, judging the distance between them and the chances of grabbing it without getting shot in the process. Considering the confined space, they weren’t good.  
“We’ll be heading for the border tomorrow night,” the driver explained somewhat, “Mexico is great this time of year.”  
“Mexico?” Taylor’s eyebrows rose.  
He looked between them as the gunman smirked.  
“Would you like some time to consider it?” the driver offered.  
“No,” Taylor scorned instantly, “the answer is no. Like I said, I have a family.”  
“Everyone has a family,” the gunman scorned.  
“I’m not leaving my wife alone with five kids,” the defiant look was back in his eyes.  
“Yes… you are,” the driver caught his attention again, “one way or another, your chances of seeing them again are very slim.”  
Taylor gulped at that as his situation finally hit a little close to home. He looked the driver up and down quickly to make sure he didn’t have any visible weapons on him, before turning back to the gunman. The man caught the look in his eye and immediately went to click the safety off. The momentary distraction gave Taylor an edge and he lunged.  
Taylor definitely had a height advantage, but that was all. Still he did manage to grab the gun before getting an elbow in the chest in the scuffle. Winded, the driver was able to grab his arms and pull him back. The gun fell to the floor with a loud clatter in the otherwise silence. Taylor watched, flustered, as the shorter man recovered before bending to retrieve it.  
“Stupid. Very stupid,” the driver said in his ear.  
Once Taylor caught his breath he tried to wrench himself away, but he was held firm. The gunman coughed and stepped forward, lifting the gun so the silencer sat under Taylor’s chin.  
“Give me one good reason not to,” he was obviously annoyed.  
Taylor gulped a little as he looked him in the eye.  
“Okay wrap it up. We’ve got him where we want him,” the driver insisted calmly.  
Taylor grunted and looked to the ceiling as he was tugged back away from the gun.  
“There’s no way in Hell you’ll get away with this,” he said with a clenched jaw.  
“People go missing all the time. What makes you so special?” the gunman visibly held back a sneer.  
Taylor locked eyes with him again, holding himself back from saying anything. The last thing he needed right now was for his captors to find out who he really was.  
“Thought so,” the gunman smirked.  
“Joey,” the driver indicated something Taylor couldn’t see behind his back.  
The gunman – presumably Joey – stared Taylor down a moment longer before stepping to the side. Once the gun was out of sight Taylor pulled on his arms again, but the driver barely budged.  
The next thing Taylor heard was the sound of gaffer tape being snapped open. His eyes widened and he struggled again.  
“Settle,” the driver coaxed, having some trouble holding him before simply grabbing him by the wrists, “Joe hurry up!”  
Taylor cringed as he felt the tape go on his wrists, holding them tight.  
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he insisted.  
“I should hope that we do,” the driver mused.  
Joey cut the tape before Taylor felt the driver take him by the arm around to the back of the car. The trunk was opened and Taylor eyed his guitar case worriedly.  
“Get in,” the driver ordered.  
“What?” Taylor frowned, not sure he heard right.  
“Get in,” Joey appeared beside him, still holding the roll.  
Taylor’s eyes darted between them.  
“Are you serious?” he asked the driver, who admittedly appeared to be both brain and brawn of the operation.  
The man shoved him forward, before indicating for Joey to pass him the gun. Joey pulled it from his belt and handed it over.  
“Alright! Alright,” Taylor looked at the trunk, wondering how on Earth he was going to fit.  
He sat on the edge, gave his captors each another glance, then lifted one leg after the other so he was sitting sideways in front of the case.  
“Joe,” the driver waved the gun toward Taylor’s feet.  
Joey snapped the tape open again with an almost gleeful expression as Taylor watched him tape his ankles together.  
“So you’re leaving me here for how long?” he had to ask.  
“We’ll leave come nightfall,” the driver relented.  
“What if I need to use the bathroom?” Taylor pointed out.  
“Hold it,” was the response as Joey broke off more tape.  
“Hold it?” Taylor suddenly wished he hadn’t had that last coffee.  
“That’s what I said.”  
Taylor’s eyes darted to Joey as he came for him one last time.  
“Wait!” he exclaimed, shifting back a little, “please. Don’t do this. I swear, I can probably get you as much money as you want right now. Why make me work for small-gig money when I can just give you what you want right now if you just let me go?”  
Joey and the driver shared a glance. Joey broke it.  
“Yeah right,” he scoffed, quickly leaning in to fit the last piece of tape over Taylor’s mouth.  
“We’ll be back tonight. One sound out of you and we’ll put a bullet in your leg. Just get some sleep,” the driver insisted before closing the trunk and setting the car alarm.  
Taylor’s eyes followed them as they left the garage, turning the lights out before closing the door.  
With a groan he hit his head back against the side window, before he heard something drop. With a sudden burst of adrenalin he realised that it was his cell phone.

Realising it wasn’t going to be much help if he couldn’t talk, he tried to think of anything sharp that might have been left in the trunk. Unable to see in the dark, he tried to feel around a little with his hands. Eventually it was his head that found something – the catchment for the car’s baby seat latch.  
Grunting a little from the abrupt way he’d found it, he pushed his head against the side of the car so the latch came close to his mouth. Carefully, but also trying to be quick about it, he began rubbing the edge of the tape against the latch. He was sure he’d scratched his cheek open a few times but the effort appeared to be worth it – the tape slowly came away.  
Knowing he’d be left in the garage for the entire day let him not worry too much about rushing and possibly making too much noise, but his heart raced once he finally had the tape off enough to breathe properly. His hands awkwardly fumbled for the phone, and he jumped a little as the screen light came on. Setting the phone aside a little – making sure it was unlocked and on the dial screen first – he began trying to shift himself so that he could get it to his ear. He ended up having to put his feet up against the opposite window before shuffling down onto his back and twisting slightly so he wasn’t laying on his hands.  
Able to pull the phone closer with his teeth, he managed to dial 911 with his nose.  
“Emergency – police, ambulance or fire?”  
“Police,” Taylor tried to keep his voice as low as he could.  
There was a pause as he was connected.  
“Police department. What is your location?”  
“Tulsa, Oklahoma,” Taylor held back a cough.  
“And what is your emergency?”  
“I’ve been… abducted,” Taylor found the word odd to use, “I’m locked in the trunk of my car. I don’t know where I am.”  
“Is there any way for you to get out?” the woman’s voice remained placidly serious.  
“No. I don’t think so,” Taylor closed his eyes as he struggled not to let his face touch the phone screen, “my hands and feet are tied. The car’s in a garage and they’ve set the alarm.”  
“Do you know who has you?”  
“No,” Taylor swallowed hard, “but one of their names is Joey.”  
“Is it safe for you to talk right now?”  
“I think so,” Taylor glanced upward, only to make sure the garage was still in darkness, “they went into the house. They told me they wouldn’t be back until tonight.”  
“Alright. Do you have the GPS activated in your phone?”  
Taylor paused for thought.  
“I don’t know, but I could try and do it?” he offered.  
“Go ahead,” she instructed, “we have your number if you get disconnected.”  
Taylor shifted to the side a little, glancing upward again before the light came back to the phone screen. Using his nose he managed to go through the quick-menu settings and he let out a sigh of relief when he hit the GPS.  
“Are you still there?” he asked, putting his ear back to it.  
“We’re still here. Tracking your co-ordinates now.”  
“I was taken from outside a club just off Boston Avenue in the city,” Taylor offered, “but drove for… I don’t know, maybe a half hour to get here? We headed East but that’s all I know.”  
“We’ll find you, don’t you worry,” the woman assured.  
“Thank you,” Taylor closed his eyes again, “could you guys please call my family and tell them I’m okay?”  
“Sure. Give us your address and we’ll send a squad car around right away.”  
Taylor gave her the address and their home number just in case.  
“And what’s your name?”  
“Jordan Taylor Hanson,” Taylor replied, “I go by Taylor.”  
“Okay Taylor. Just hang in there, we’re zeroing in on your location as we speak. Stay on the line as long as you can.”  
Taylor tried to relax a little at that, his thoughts now turning to hope that he wouldn’t be used as some sort of hostage. He fell down onto his side – keeping the phone in front of his face so he could still hear – and bent his knees in a little to try and give his legs some movement.  
There was a long moment of silence, where Taylor could only hear some soft tapping from the other end of the line. Presumably the woman using computer keys.  
“Are you still there Taylor?” she asked after maybe five minutes.  
“I’m here,” Taylor confirmed, “I just need to be quiet. They said they’d shoot me in the leg if I made any noise.”  
“Understood. Are you in any other immediate danger?”  
“No,” Taylor closed his eyes again.  
He couldn’t see anything when the phone’s screen turned off anyway.  
“Good. Hang in there.”  
Taylor grunted again as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but knew it wasn’t going to happen. If he went onto his stomach he’d be stuck and his feet would have to be raised, but if he went onto his back his hands would be squashed. The result had him staying on his side but his shoulder was already paying the price for his weight.

It was possibly half an hour later that Taylor’s phone gave a soft beep. When Taylor’s eyes opened and saw what was on the screen, his heart leapt into his throat.  
“Oh no no no…” he panicked, shifting his body so he could sit up a little.  
“Taylor? What is it?” the woman’s voice came through.  
“It’s the battery!” Taylor exclaimed, “what do I do? What do I do?!”  
“Firstly, calm down,” the woman insisted, “we’ve managed to track the GPS already and there’s a squad car on the way. They will find you, even if we get cut off.”  
Taylor took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down.  
“Have you heard from my family?” he asked.  
“I haven’t personally, but there are officers currently at your house. Don’t you worry.”  
Taylor breathed a sigh of relief, before his head snapped up at the door to the garage opening.  
“Dammit,” he cursed under his breath as the garage light was switched on.  
“Taylor?”  
“They’re back. I must have been too loud,” Taylor’s voice shook as he struggled to use his head to push the phone behind the guitar case.  
He barely got it there in time before he heard the immobiliser disable and the trunk opened.  
“What did I say?!” came the driver’s aggravated voice.  
Taylor cringed, turning over onto his back.  
“I’m sorry!” he insisted.  
“What the-?”  
The man reached in toward him. Taylor flinched away, expecting to be hit in the face, but he simply ripped the tape the rest of the way from Taylor’s cheek.  
“How did you get that off?” he demanded.  
Taylor looked up at him but didn’t reply. He didn’t need him to know in case he had to do it again.  
The man waited for a response, and when he didn’t get one he pulled the gun from his belt.  
“Please! Don’t!” Taylor struggled to sit up as the gun was pointed toward his legs.  
As the safety was clicked off, Taylor’s phone beeped once again. There was an awkward moment of silence as Taylor waited to get shot.  
“What was that?” the gunman demanded icily.  
“Nothing,” was Taylor’s immediate reply.  
The man leant forward and grabbed the ruff of Taylor’s jacket, pulling him roughly from the trunk. Taylor hit the floor hard on his side, grimacing as he rolled over so that he could sit up. While the gunman fossicked in the back of the car, something against the wall caught Taylor’s eye.  
There was a toolbox on the floor, in which sat a rusted box cutter. Using the moment the gunman was distracted Taylor quickly sidled over to it and grabbed it with his hands. Before the man could turn back to him he had it in the pocket of his jeans. He only hoped he’d have the chance to use it.  
“Nothing, huh?” the man eyed Taylor as he flipped the phone over in his hand.  
Taylor watched the man’s face lose colour when the screen suddenly came on, showing the number it was currently connected to.  
“Shit,” he cursed, immediately disconnecting the call and throwing the phone to the ground.  
He stamped on it, being careful to shatter the main motherboard. Taylor winced as he registered the anger that went into the blows.  
“JOEY?!” he yelled, heading for the garage door, “we need to move! NOW!”  
Taylor watched with wide eyes, knowing very well that if they left straight away there was less of a chance of the police getting there in time. His fears were realised when the gunman returned to him and pulled him from the ground, shoving him back into the trunk. He hit the floor with a grunt as the man lifted his legs in before going to find the tape again. Joey appeared in the doorway with a duffel bag as the gunman returned with it. He watched him bite off another small piece, not daring to resist as it was placed over his mouth again.  
“What happened?” Joey asked, opening a back door to throw the duffel on the seat.  
“Forgot to check the guy’s phone. He dialled 911,” the gunman explained as he closed the trunk again.  
“What? How?”  
“Let’s just get out of here, shall we?”  
Taylor saw the roller door open as both men got into the front and the gunman started the car.  
“We should’ve ditched the plates,” Joey yawned as they began to back out.  
Taylor had wasted no time and already had the box cutter out of his pocket. He fiddled with the blade to get it to the right length, and quickly began cutting at the tape on his wrists. That the tape was actually around his jacket sleeves made it harder, but preserving the jacket was the last thing on his mind.  
“We’ll do it before we get out of town,” the driver assured, “but we’ll need to dump the car before the border.”  
Taylor held back any audible noise as he felt the blade slip and cut into his wrist. He could have ignored it completely, but the blood from the resulting cut began to make his fingers slippery.  
Keeping his eyes to the reflection in the rear window of the back of his captors’ heads, he almost groaned in relief when he finally felt his wrists part. Trying not to move too fast and make any sound, he slowly shifted down onto his side further so that his right hand could reach down to his ankles. Able to move his hands a lot easier, it was a quick slit that finally parted his legs. Not bothering to remove the tape from either his jacket or jeans, he slit either side before returning the knife to his pocket. Lastly, he pulled the tape from his mouth before focusing once again on the conversation in the front.  
“Maybe we should just dump this one? I mean who knows what he said to them?” Joey suggested.  
“Joe, one musician goes missing? No one cares. More than one? People start asking hard questions.”  
“So we’ll dump the music idea and think of something else.”  
Taylor didn’t wait to hear any more. Keeping his eye on their reflections he felt for the door latch, carefully curling his fingers around it as he prepared himself for the blow he knew was coming. A bump in the road caused his fingers to automatically open the handle, and that was the point of no return. The door flew open and Taylor landed on his hands and knees on hard bitumen.

The driver slammed the brakes on as Taylor quickly recovered and pulled himself to his feet, breaking into a sprint. He didn’t know where he was going, but he didn’t care. Away was enough.  
He didn’t register the car turning on him until the high beams hit his back casting a high contrast shadow across the road in front of him. He chanced a glance over his shoulder, momentarily blinding himself but able to vaguely judge the ground he had.  
Darting to the left he ran up onto the sidewalk, continuing in the same direction down the street. If he’d known where he’d come from he would have headed back to the house because that’s where the police would have been headed. Failing that, his mind raced for an alternative.  
The car soon pulled alongside him and Taylor saw the gun before anything else. As the gunshot sounded Taylor stopped in his tracks, quickly darting back in the opposite direction. The car slammed its brakes on, turning back to continue the chase. Instead of passing it like he had last time, Taylor took the first corner he came to. Before the SUV could catch up he’d jumped a hedge into someone’s garden and landed into a sitting position behind it.  
He heard the tyres squeal as the SUV came around the corner, speeding past before suddenly jamming the brakes on again about three houses down.  
“Dammit,” Taylor cursed under his breath, unable to see anything from where he was.  
He looked up at the house he sat in front of. It wasn’t yet daylight, but there was a tiny hint of blue in the sky that signalled the sun was on its way. That meant practically any hiding place wasn’t going to be good enough very soon.  
Closing his eyes to listen, he gulped a little as he heard the car reversing slowly back toward where he was. Eventually it was close enough that he could hear their voices.  
“He can’t have gone that far,” he heard Joey insist.  
“Get out and check the yards,” the driver ordered.  
Taylor cringed when he heard that, once again looking up toward the house. He didn’t like the chances of gaining attention from that direction without alerting them. Fervently wishing he’d chosen a house with a bigger yard, he froze as he heard the car door open and Joey’s footfalls hit the road barely metres away.  
“Take that side, I’ll check this one,” he heard the driver instruct, before hearing Joey’s footsteps heading in his direction.  
He leant back into the hedge a little, his hand hitting something solid. As he grabbed it he realised it was a pine cone from a nearby tree. Without pausing to think, he threw it as hard as he could into the neighbour’s yard.  
“Over here!” he heard Joey exclaim, before his footsteps bolted in that direction.  
Taylor immediately pulled himself to his feet, and sticking to the shadows by the fence line he disappeared down the side of the house.  
As his pursuers voices descended into murmurs the further away he got, Taylor aimed for the back of the house. Carefully creeping up to the patio he weighed up his options of waking the home’s occupants before stopping to pray that there was actually someone home. He barely had his hand on the door when the door suddenly shook and a vicious bark could be heard from the other side.  
“Holy crap!” Taylor couldn’t help but react, backing off and jumping down from the patio.  
He looked to his right where he could now hear Joey and his accomplice yelling to each other. Not willing to wait until they found him, he took on the side fence and landed in the next backyard. Hearing a yell almost immediately from the yard he’d just left, he continued on and jumped the next fence into the following yard, before ducking around and back onto the street he’d originally started on.  
Sprinting down the pavement, he tried to run on the grass by the sidewalk when he could so as not to make obvious footfalls. Regardless, he’d barely gotten to the next cross street when he glanced back to see Joey in hot pursuit.  
“I got him!” he heard Joey yell back over his shoulder.  
Taylor turned left, heading into a dark street where the streetlights weren’t working. Trying to hide hadn’t worked earlier, so now he was relying purely on his legs being longer than Joey’s. And he was definitely keeping up a solid lead.

Neither he nor the driver were expecting to clash when a resident suddenly backed out of their driveway in front of him on their way to work this morning. Taylor hit the back of the car with enough force to send him skidding back along the driveway a good few feet. He groaned as he registered the pain in his hip, trying to pull himself back to his feet as soon as he could recover. He looked up when he made it onto his side. Joey was almost on him.  
By the time he managed to get up the SUV was also coming down the road.  
“No!” he cried out, backing around the car.  
“Hey! Are you alright?” Taylor barely gave the driver a glance as he got out to check on him.  
Taylor took off down the pavement again, Joey not bothering to slow as he dove across the trunk of the car in pursuit. The injury was slowing Taylor down and he knew it.  
He kept his eye on the SUV as it sped past him, turning slightly to park on the next corner before the driver threw the door open and jumped out – gun in hand. Taylor threw out the anchor, using a tree to stop him in his rush. A glance backward proved that Joey was too close for comfort, so Taylor darted across the road. With both men coming at him from opposite angles he knew he was running out of options, so he aimed for a tall gate at a house across the street.  
When he got to it he launched himself up the bars, his feet catching in the central metallic design as he climbed. He’d made it to the top when he felt Joey’s hand firmly grab his ankle.  
“NO! Let go!” Taylor exclaimed, trying to pull himself up by the hands.  
“Get down!” the gunman demanded, making it to the duo and aiming his weapon upward.  
Taylor froze, staring at him.  
“Get down _now_!” the gunman repeated.  
Taylor glanced back at the house, knowing he wouldn’t be able to dodge any bullets sent through the thin-barred gate. But before he forced himself to climb down, his eye caught something on their roof… CCTV cameras. Hoping against hope that it was of high enough definition to catch the men’s faces, he finally relented and let Joey pull him down.  
He was shoved down onto the concrete path between the two of them.  
“That’s enough,” the gunman said in a low tone, before aiming.  
Taylor’s eyes widened, not expecting the shot. He yelled out and grabbed hold of his left calf where the bullet now lay. Joey pulled him up by the shoulder and clamped a hand over his mouth.  
“Enough!” the gunman reiterated, “we’ve spent too long fucking around already. Keep him while I get the car.”  
Joey took his hand away from Taylor’s mouth long enough to take the gun from his partner. As Taylor struggled to breathe without crying out further, he felt the tip of the gun placed under his chin.  
“Not a sound,” Joey insisted in a warning tone.  
Taylor hissed through his teeth as he felt his blood trickling through his fingers, his eyes following the driver across the road to where his car had been left. The SUV was backed up into the nearest driveway, and Joey struggled a moment to pull Taylor back to his feet just in time for a squad car to hurtle around the opposite corner.  
“Shit! Cops!” Joey hissed as the driver got out to help him.  
His head snapped up in their direction as the car’s spotlight was turned on and began scanning the pathways.  
“Quick, get him in,” he kept his voice low as he took the opposite arm to the one Joey held and began to drag Taylor back to the car.  
“Please, _please_ just let me go,” Taylor pleaded, almost choking from the effort.  
“Shut up!” Joey hissed, digging the gun into Taylor’s neck for further emphasis.  
Taylor cringed, feeling how close he was to both death and freedom in this moment. The driver opened the back door and helped Joey shove Taylor in, not a moment before the spotlight fell on the SUV and the patrol car’s lights suddenly lit up the street.  
“Dammit!” Taylor heard the driver curse.  
“Deal with it,” Joey locked eyes with him, before getting in behind Taylor without closing the door.  
The driver disappeared around the front of the SUV as Joey roughly manoeuvred Taylor so that he was laying across the seat. Taylor’s hands were back against his calf, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

“Problem officer?” the driver could be heard asking.  
“Could you step away from the vehicle?”  
“Sure. Can I help you with something?”  
“We’ve had reports of a man being chased in this area. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”  
Taylor grunted and squeezed his eyes shut as the gun was pressed against his head, already struggling to keep himself together.  
“No Sir. It’s been a quiet night over here.”  
“That’s funny. Because we had multiple people call it in, and your car appears to have been involved.”  
“My car?”  
There was a pause.  
“Mind if we check it over?”  
Taylor’s eyes opened again when he heard a couple more car doors opening and closing.  
“Hey, guys, I’m sure this is just a big misunderstanding,” the driver was obviously heading back to the car, “I’m just taking my little cousin home, that’s all.”  
“Then you have nothing to worry about.”  
Joey began to look frantic as he watched the driver return to the car.  
“What’s going on?” he asked, leaning slightly out of the door.  
Taylor’s eyes shot to where the gun was now waving over his face aimlessly. Pooling every ounce of energy he had left, he let go of his calf and grabbed it.  
The gun went off, the bullet lodging into the driver’s seat of the car. The shot undoubtedly caught the attention of the police, and Taylor could hear their shouts as he struggled with Joey to gain a better grip. The blood on his hands was making them slippery, so he couldn’t fight Joey off.  
Another shot went off, this one through the roof.  
“Drop the weapon!” came an order from behind Joey.  
Joey immediately let it go, leaving it in Taylor’s bloodied grip. When Taylor finally looked up he saw an officer in the doorway, his gun aimed for Joey’s head. He almost cried with relief.  
He could hear the driver struggling with what he saw were two other officers outside the car once he sat up, careful to keep the gun out of Joey’s reach as his free hand flew back to his calf.  
“Taylor Hanson?” the armed officer raised an eyebrow.  
“That’s me,” he choked out, trying to open the door.  
“Just stay where you are. You’re safe now.”  
Taylor groaned, putting the hand with the gun to his head as he closed his eyes again. The officer roughly grabbed Joey and pulled him from the car, throwing him down onto his stomach on the ground where he was swiftly handcuffed. Seeing what happened, Taylor set the gun on the seat and focused on his leg instead.  
“Are you injured?” the officer called over his shoulder.  
“Yes!” Taylor called in reply, leaning back into the seat.  
“This is West,” the officer said into his radio as he pulled Joey from the ground and led him away, “we have Taylor Hanson. Radio in an ambulance for us.”  
“On its way,” came the crackled reply before he’d moved out of Taylor’s earshot.  
Taylor took the moment to look the car over. He wouldn’t be able to take it home… that was for sure. As he eyed the bullet holes inside it, his eyes caught the duffel bag the men had left in there.  
Looking out the window to make sure the two were secure in the back of the squad car, he reached over to grab it and pull it up onto the seat. Trying to use fingers that weren’t coated in blood, he unzipped the top and pulled the bag apart. He flinched.  
Inside were obviously multiple changes of clothes for his captors, and sitting atop them was a thick chain with a padlocked metallic cuff hanging from the end. He closed his eyes and turned away, knowing for sure that it had meant to be used on him.  
“Taylor?”  
His eyes darted across to another officer in the doorway.  
“Ambulance is on its way,” he informed him.  
“Thank you,” Taylor offered a forced smile.  
“And we have your wife on the line. She’d like to talk to you.”  
Taylor couldn’t help but smile for real.  
“I’d like to talk to her,” he returned.

~*~


End file.
